


Take the Shot

by AnimeLover200013



Series: Klance Fanfics [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra Keith (Voltron), Keith is a target gone awry, Lance and the others paladins are mercenaries/assassins, Lance is so thirsty, M/M, might be some language later, sniper!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-12-11 16:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimeLover200013/pseuds/AnimeLover200013
Summary: Lance was supposed to kill him, end of story. But, Lance has never been known for good decisions and now the paladins had an unconscious Galran general on their hands. Wonderful.





	1. A Beautiful Target

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I don’t own Voltron or any of the characters. Second, this piece is inspired by Kit-Replica’s comic for Klance Week 2016 on tumblr. Go check it out here: kit-replica.tumblr.com/post/148569737366/klance-week-2016-day-12-redblue-lovehate

The first time Lance saw him, it was a blurry, rather useless picture. And that’s exactly what he said. 

“We weren’t the ones to take it,” Pidge shrugged, pushing up her glasses, “it was sent in by an anonymous source.” Well, that explained it, he supposed. 

“How am I supposed to know who to hit from  _ that _ ? All I see is a purple smudge. Every Galra I know of is purple,” Lance took the photo from Pidge’s hand and rotated it around as if the difference of lighting would somehow make it better. 

“Stop screwing around,” Pidge grumbled, snatching the picture back and shoving it into her pocket. 

“So what’re the specifics? Who, what, when, where, why, and how?” 

“One of Zarkon’s generals. The source said that he oversees the quintessence transports in galaxy 706. They’re supposed to have a huge transport in a couple days, which is when we’ll strike. Shiro and I are going in to set a couple bombs in a separate wing, and once you’re in place, we’ll set them off five minutes after so you have cover to get back out. Hunk’ll be waiting outside in case you run into trouble to cover you,” Pidge informed him, pulling up a map of the cargo ship on a holographic screen and pointing to the spots she indicated. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Lance stretched his arms over his head and scratches his stomach, “I mean, what can go wrong? The one and only Lance is at the helm!”

“Please don’t say that,” Pidge groaned, closing the hologram and stepping towards her computer. 

“Oh, come on. Just because it’s my first solo mission, doesn’t mean something will  _ definitely  _ go wrong,” Lance grinned, following the shorter girl.

“Lance, please stop talking. You just jinxed the mission. Twice.”

“Doesn’t that mean that it’s positively jinxed? You know, like how two negatives make a positive,” Lance pointed out, “anyway my stomach is a rumblin’ and Hunk said he’d cook tonight. See ya!” Pidge watched the lanky teen dart out of the room.

“We’re screwed.” Rover beeped in agreement. 

 

***

“Okay Lance, it’s showtime,” Lance whispered to himself, shaking out his limbs and swinging the two-foot sniper rifle over his shoulder. After making sure everything was in place, he lifted his helmet over his head. 

“You ready, Lance?” Shiro’s voice murmured through his helmet. 

“I’m always ready,” Lance smirked, striding toward the ramp leading onto the Galra ship. 

“Just, make sure you aren’t seen. It’d be a pain if we had to clean that up,” Pidge pleaded. 

“Ah, come on, Pidge. He’s got it. I believe in you, buddy!” Hunk’s reassuring voice called. 

“Aw, see Pidge! Hunk believes in me!” 

“Just….get moving before we run out of time,” Pidge sighed. Lance slowly edged down the ramp and onto the smooth, purple surface of the cargo vessel. 

“Engaging camouflage,” Pidge announced. Lance’s lion slowly disappeared, though it wasn’t as perfect as Pidge’s invisibility shield. However, it lasted much, much longer. 

“Alright, I’m on my way,” Lance whispered into his comm before moving down the walkway. 

“Okay, buddy, there’s a hatch three feet away, you see it?” Hunk instructed. 

“Yup, see it. Boarding the ship,” Lance responded, opening said hatch and slipping inside. He landed with a gentle thud. “Geez, the interior designing of these places get so boring. A simple painting would really spice it up.”

“Lance, focus,” Shiro’s low voice murmured over the mic. 

“We’re in position,” Pidge reported, “you have to hurry, Lance. The ship picking up the quintessence will be here soon.”

“Right, on it,” Lance forced himself to focus on moving down the hallway swiftly, but quietly. 

“Patrol up ahead,” Hunk reported. Lance pressed himself against the wall’s corner, listening as the tapping of feet grew steadily louder. Five bots turned the corner and Lance froze his breathing, watching as the figures made their steady retreat down the hall. 

“They’ll be circling back soon, so hurry and take the right down the corridor they just came from and keep going straight,” Hunk told him. 

“Turning and going straight,” Lance reported back, pushing himself into motion. It took three more minutes of turn, halt, straight, halt, turn, straight, halt before Lance finally reached the last final steps to get to his perch. 

“Okay, there’s three guys in the next room. One is straight ahead and the other two are flanking him, facing the door. If you go in--” Lance shouted as he rushed into the room, bayard firing bright blue shots at the three soldiers inside. The one at the console tried to reach for the comm but was stopped midway with a shot through the head. “...or you could do that.” Lance swaggered over to the console and closed the files the Galra soldier had, had up.

Ships were lined up outside, cargo and supplies being loaded on and off. Soldiers lined the landing docks, heads rotating and examining each and every person that walked past them. There were at least a hundred ships, and all of them were fueling the Galra Empire. 

“We should blow some of these up. That would slow down the Galra, right?”

“We don’t have time. Once you kill the general, all hell will break loose and we’ll only have a small window to get out,” Pidge responded, “trust me, I was thinking the same thing earlier.” Lance could hear the bitterness in her tone and winced in sympathy. They all missed their family, but Pidge really had it hard. 

“Next time, am I right?” he awkwardly chuckled.

“Next time,” Lance could hear the smile in Pidge’s voice and grinned. 

“Okay, Lance. There’s a stairwell out the door to your left. At the top of them are air vents that’ll take you to another hatch to get back up onto the exterior of the ship. You should be able to get a clear shot of the target once you’re up there,” Hunk guided as Lance moved out the door, lowering into a crouch. 

“How will I know who’s the target. That picture  _ really _ didn’t help,” Lance muttered, peeking around the corner before climbing into the air vents. 

“I’ll be able to tell. The source knew the picture was pretty bad and sent me a list of physical traits when I asked,” Pidge responded. Pidge’s swirly-eyed logo popped up onto Lance’s visor, before shrinking and moving into the upper right corner. “Alright, I can see what you see now.” Lance narrowed his eyes before making a circle with one hand and putting the finger of his other hand through it. “Lance, knock it off.”

“Sorry, just had to be sure,” Lance continued through the air vent, listening as Hunk guided him through the turns and rises. Climbing out of the vent was one of the best moments of his life. 

“Oh, God,” he groaned struggling to pop his back without standing and making himself obvious, “next time Pidge is going in the vent.” 

“Lance, focus, we only have a couple minutes,” Shiro warned. 

“Right sorry,” Lance stretched out on his stomach and scooted forward until he was able to lean over the sleek bend of the ship’s body, peeking out at the loading platform below him. There were numerous soldiers milling about, ducking behind giant cargo boxes and chatting amongst each other. Armored sentinels scanned the area, mechanical heads moving back and forth with robot smoothness. Lance could see the towering yellow containers, quintessence swirling and bubbling as the Galra soldiers readied it to be loaded onto the next ship. It would be hard to get a clear shot with all of this traffic. “Alright, game time people.” Lance reached over his shoulder and pulled the sniper rifle off his back. He swiftly and efficiently set up the legs of the rifle, adjusting the scope with practiced ease and slotting his shoulder against the butt of it and wiggling into position. 

“Start scanning the area and I’ll let you know when I see him,” Pidge said. Lance peered into the scope, eye scanning each and every face. He looked into the crowds, on cargo ramps, stopping to let Pidge examine their faces and compare them to her list. 

“Pidge--”

“Right there!” Lance froze, arms tensing as he quickly zeroed in on the person. He was 

tall, lanky, and stood ramrod straight. Lance could make out the profile of his face, the gentle swoop of his nose and the way his eyes glowed in the typical Galra fashion. But there was something different about him. He didn’t have the square jaw that all of the other Galra men had. His face was soft and youthful, cheeks chubby but not in a way that would take from his, pretty obvious, good looks. He couldn’t be any older than Lance, yet he wore the orange-lined armor that signified that he was a general of the Galra Empire. 

“Oh no, he’s hot,” Lance couldn’t help but whisper to himself, eyes unable to leave the alluring man in his sights. 

“Lance now is not the time. Take the shot,” Shiro ordered. 

“The timer on the bomb is already going, Lance. You have to take the shot  _ now _ ,” Pidge added, and Lance could faintly make out the sound of their feet tapping down the hallways. Lance eyed the Galra general up and down, taking in the way his suit hugged his skin and his taloned hands moved as he talked. 

“But...he can’t be any older than the rest of us. Isn’t that wrong?” Lance hesitated. The Galra’s ears twitched like he heard Lance, and he turned toward the direction Lance was facing, glowing yellow eyes widening in shock. 

“Oh cra--” the ship shook like an earthquake beneath him, almost sending Lance sliding off the slick metal and into the enemies below. Behind him, a grand plume of flames rose into space, swirling and licking into the void. “Crap.”

“Did you do it? Lance?” Shiro’s voice called through the comm system. 

“I-well not really--”

“Get out of there. We’ll have to figure something else out,” Shiro’s voice carried that icy tone he only got when he was really, really upset, but was trying not to show it. Lance was in deep trouble. 

The Galra was still staring at him, eyes flickering back and forth between Lance and the growing inferno. Lance decided it was best not to stick around to see which he chose to chase after. 

“Hunk, I’m headed your way,” Lance quickly disassembled the rifle and replaced it over his shoulder, getting to his feet and darting to the hatch.

“Alright, I got your lion covered. Ready when you are,” Hunk reported back, the gentle whirs of his lion sounding in the background. Lance crawled as quickly as he could through the air vents, hands scraping and scratching along the metal. When he was finally back in the room, out of breath with dust in his hair, everything had thoroughly gone to crap. Galran forces were scrambling across the lower decks and sirens wailed down the halls.  

“Lance, you have three minutes, tops, to get out before your area is swarmed,” Shiro warned, the sound of firefight reaching through his microphone.

“Right, right, continuing on,” Lance darted out of the room, skidding as he swiftly turned the corner. He could hear the thundering of troops behind him, forcing himself to pick up the pace. 

“Hunk, I’m almost there. Making the last turn no--” he was abruptly cut off as his back slammed into the wall, sharp fingers scratching his cheek as his helmet was ripped off and tossed across the hallway. Lance scrabbled at the fingers that closed around his throat, wincing as sharp claws dug into the thin skin there, blood dripping into the collar of his suit. 

The Galra, his target, glared at him through dark bangs, teeth bared threateningly. Lance could hear his friends shouting for him, a low buzz in the background. 

“What are you doing here?” the Galra demanded, nails on the verge of seriously damaging the skin and muscle beneath them. Lance kicked his shin, which, in retrospect, wasn’t the best idea. The Galra grunted in pain, before growling and slamming Lance’s head back against the wall. Amber eyes bore into Lance’s own wide azure. “What,” another slam, “are you doing here? Where are your friends?”

“Like I’d tell you,” Lance choked out, trying to pull away from the fingers in a renewed effort. Lance’s vision was swimming, going in and out of focus as darkness started to creep up on him. He had to do something, now!

Lance lifted one leg, planting it against an armored stomach and pushing with as much force as he could muster. The Galra grunted, nails dragging across dark skin as he tried to keep his hold as Lance pushed him away with the sheer force of desperation. The blue paladin winced, darting for his helmet while his opponent was still stunned. 

“Hunk, I need some help. Anyone, actually!” Lance frantically called, yelping as a dagger dug into the space he had been just seconds ago.

“Lance, I’m on my way!” Hunk responded, voice barely carrying from where the helmet 

lay abandoned. Lance dodged another swipe at his chest, praying Hunk would hurry. 

“Hey, you owe me, you know! I could’ve killed you ten minutes ago!” Lance tried, using his shield to block the next incoming attack. The Galra pushed his weight against the shield, straining Lance’s muscles as he forced himself to keep the blood thirsty Galra back.

“Like I should be grateful for that!” the Galra hissed, and, though it was definitely not the time, Lance couldn’t help the hot shiver the raced up his spine at the rough tone.

“Look, you’re really pretty and I’d hate to kill you after I let you go!” Lance lowered his shield and swiftly ducked under the blade, taking a shot at the Galra’s stomach once again. His fist impacted and the shorter man stumbled back, Lance taking advantage and sweeping his leg out to trip the Galra. The purple skinned man fell and Lance quickly clamored on top of him, pinning his arms above his head and using his longer legs to pin the Galra’s own. 

Lance’s arms were screaming as he held the struggling man down. 

“Now, this can go two different ways,” Lance huffed, lungs straining, “you can either stop struggling and you can leave with me conscious.  _ Or _ you can keep this up,” at this, he slams the Galra’s wrists against the ground after the other pushed particularly hard against his restraints, “and we can wait for my friend to show up, knock you out, and you can leave with me  _ un _ conscious.”

The purple skinned soldier spat something Lance couldn’t understand, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize that he, and probably everyone he had ever met, had just been insulted with as much venom as a living being could muster. 

“I don’t know what you just said, but I have the feeling it was really rude, and I have to say: knocking you out is seeming more and more appealing,” Lance remarked, wincing as his neck gave a vicious pang, a drop of blood dripping onto Galran armor. 

“Lance!” Lance’s head shot up at the familiar voice, eye’s landing on familiar yellow armor as his best friend sprinted down the hallways, bayard held in strong arms.

“Hunk! Oh, thank God,” Lance could have cried at the sight of his fellow paladin, “help me out here. If I get up now, he’ll rip my head off.” The look on the Galra’s face promised way worse than a lack of a head. 

“Alright give me a sec,” Hunk set his bayard aside, kneeling down beside his friend and

reaching into the pouch resting against his hip. The yellow paladin pulled out a long syringe, filled with an eerie purple liquid. He gave it a couple pushes to make sure there were no air bubbles before reaching out to turn the Galra’s face away from his. After dodging sharp teeth that lunged for his fingers, Hunk was finally able to get the needle pressed into the soft skin of the struggling man’s neck, injecting the fluid into his veins as quickly as he could. Lance watched their target’s eyes flutter shut, the tenseness in his arms easing and his body relaxing.

Lance sighed, sitting up and shaking out his arms before getting completely off the unconscious Galra. “Thanks, man,” he smiled, reaching an arm out to help Hunk to his feet. 

“No problem, man. But I can’t save you from Shiro,” Hunk grimaced, looking down at the supposed-to-be-dead-but-wasn’t target. 

“Yeah, I know. Let’s just go before more people try to choke me to death,” Lance groaned, reaching for his discarded helmet before hauling the heavy man onto his back. Hunk hefted up his bayard and began down the hallway, hyper-aware and alert as he guided them back to where the lions waited. 

“How much longer are guys going to need?” Shiro asked, the humming over machinery underlining his voice. 

“We’re almost there. I can see the hatch,” Hunk responded, moving a bit faster with Lance in tow. Sure enough, the hatch leading back to the outside of the ship, and thus the platform that would let them return to their lions, was right there. Hunk climbed through the hatch first, tossing his gun through the opening and pulling himself up, before reaching down for the Galra, and then Lance. 

“Okay we’re boarding the lions now,” Hunk announced, moving to his own lion while Lance hurried onto Blue. 

“Hey pretty lady,” Lance greeted, smiling at the mechanical hum he received in return, “let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He set their prisoner on the floor, leaning him up against one of Blue’s walls.

“Is everyone ready?” Shiro asked as Lance swung himself into the pilot’s seat, hands finding the familiar levers and squeezing them.

“We’re good on my end,” Lance reported.

“Same here. Can we  _ finally _ go home?” Hunk begged.

“Okay, let’s roll out,” Shiro commanded. Lance pulled back and Blue responded easily, pushing herself off of the cargo ship and gliding into the twinkling darkness of space. Yellow drifted up beside him and together they soared to where Green had begun heading, falling into formation with Lance on the right of Green with Yellow trailing behind, protecting the rear. 

“So let me get this straight,” Pidge began and Lance felt dread settle in his chest, “our mission was to find a Galra general, assassinate him, and collect our money. And now, we have an unconscious Galra general and probably aren’t gonna get any money because Lance went and had to think with his  _ di-- _ ”

“ _ Pidge, _ ” Shiro interrupted, his voice coming in through Green’s open communications system.

“Look,” Lance quickly intercepted, hands sweaty where he gripped Blue’s controls, “I’m sorry that the mission didn’t go as planned, but I’m not sorry I didn’t kill him.” 

“Dude, just because he’s hot--”

“It’s not just ‘cause he’s hot!” Lance shouted, face slightly flushed, “it’s also cause he’s so young! Look at him. He can’t be any older than the rest of us. And there’s something that’s just  _ different _ about him.” Shiro sighed and Lance felt his heart clench at the disappointment he could hear in the sound. 

“We’ll talk about it more once we return to base, alright. In the meantime, keep an eye on him, Lance. We don’t know how long the drugs last on Galrans.” Lance responded with a soft  _ yes sir _ before cutting his comms and sighing heavily. He put Blue on autopilot and turned his chair, eyes zeroing in on the slumped figure in the corner. Lance pulled his bayard off his back and leaned back in his chair. For the first time after a mission, he hoped they didn’t get back home anytime soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter was edited after the original upload date. The only changes that were made are that the Paladins don't have the Black Lion yet (so Shiro travels with Pidge) and that the Paladins are headed to their "base," not the Castle of Lions.


	2. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Paladins want information, but Keith isn't willing to give it out for free.

When Keith woke, the first thought he had was,  _ Why am I tied up? _ After a few seconds, everything came rushing back and his eyes snapped open. He was in a corner of a dingy room, head aching from whatever those intruders had injected him with and his neck throbbing from the awkward position he had been sleeping in. The room smelled like dust and there was little to no furniture, only a thin mattress and a chair set up a few feet away. There was a door to his left, made out of old-looking wood and without a visible way to open it. Of course, there were no windows. The only light present in the room was coming from underneath the door, but Keith’s Galran sight allowed him to peer into the darkness with more accuracy.

After taking in his surroundings and giving himself some time to breathe through the initial panic of waking up in an unfamiliar place, Keith pulled at his restraints. He was bound by handcuffs, a make he had seen numerous times on Galran prisoner ships. Everytime he tried to pull his wrists apart, they would snap back together, as if forced by magnets. He knew that somewhere in this house, or whatever he was being kept in, someone had a remote that would be able to deactivate the cuffs. 

The tricky part would be getting it from them. 

Keith had no idea how much time had passed since his capture. The only indicator of passed time was the aching in his body and the urge to urinate. Left alone, in the silence of the room, Keith was forced to think. Who were these people? Why had they been going after him? He didn’t recognize their clothes, so they weren’t a part of one of the larger groups attempting to take down the Empire. However, though this crappy room would indicate otherwise, this group had money. The handcuffs that bound him were not cheap, especially since the only other way to access them outside of the Empire was through the black market. Furthermore, they had been talking through communications systems and seemed to know their way around the Galran ship, which means they have access to more sophisticated technology.

_ Mercenaries _ , Keith concluded. They would have been able to gather the amounts of money required for their supplies through the many jobs offered by the desperate of the universe. And if the group only took jobs against the Galra Empire, they would never run out of employment. But there was still one question left: who hired them? Before Keith could continue this train of thought, there was a light thud, and then the door was pushed open. He had to squint for a moment as a flood of light poured into the room from the door, his eyes burning against the sudden brightness. Once he was finally able to look towards the door, he was greeted by the sight of two people: a man, who appeared to be slightly older than him, and a girl, who was much shorter than her companion, but held herself like she could tower over anyone. They both entered the room, the man coming to stand before Keith and the girl moving to perch in the chair, her bright eyes watching him like she could see through him.

Keith refused to say the first word, glaring up at the man in front of him. Keith hadn’t seen him on the ship, but the fact that he was here and the way he held himself so straight, so true, indicated that he was the leader of whatever group this was. At first, the only thing remarkable about this person was the strange shock of white hair hanging over his eyes, but then Keith’s eyes zeroed in on the arm. He could immediately pinpoint it as Galra tech, the sharp, geometric angles of it were easily recognizable. However, it was extremely crude. It had not been made with comfort or perfect functionality in mind, as it appeared that some of the joints were slightly out of place and metal plates ground together awkwardly. Keith was sure that under the dark clothes the man wore, there would be angry scar tissue. 

“You are the Galran General, Keith, yes?” the leader finally spoke. His voice was serious, but not cruel. Keith was sure he was a kind leader to those under him, but he wondered how far that patience extended others. Silence answered the question and a small furrow bore its way into the man’s brow. “As you’ve already guessed, my group and I were sent to kill you,” the man continued, staring unwaveringly into Keith’s eyes, “but we’re willing to exchange your life for information.” Now this was surprising. Keith had guessed that they would either kill him here, since their sniper had been unable to in the heat of the moment, or send him to whoever hired them to be killed there. Mercenaries taking information instead of whatever money offered was odd. 

“I have a feeling your mission wasn’t for information. You wouldn’t have sent a sniper in if it was,” Keith finally spoke, head held high in defiance. The leader appraised him and seemed to consider his next choice of words. 

“No, it wasn't. We were sent to kill you in order to disrupt not only the Galran chain of command, but to disrupt the shipment of quintessence that you oversee. We’ll be missing out on the reward for your life, but sometimes information is more valuable than money.”

“I guess that depends on the information,” Keith passed back, a challenge in his voice. 

“Mostly? We want to know where the quintessence is coming from,” Shiro crossed his arms over his chest, starting down at Keith with equal amounts of determination. Keith rolled the question over in his head. Would giving out this information be worth it? What could this group do to the Empire that Keith hadn’t from the inside? If he tells them where the quintessence is being shipped and stored, then what? From what he saw before, they were capable of breaking into Galran ships and maybe if their sniper had done his job, they could be lethal. But breaking into one shipping dock is completely different from breaking into the main facilities. 

“What makes you think you can use the information? I tell you what you want to know and then what?” Keith answers his question with a question. 

“Why don’t you let us worry about that,” the leader shoots back.

“They’ll have noticed I’m missing by now. If I hand you this information, they’ll know where it came from and I’ll be as good as dead.”

“Well, it seems either way you’re good as dead. We might want your information more than your life, but if you won’t give us anything then a paycheck will have to do.” Silence reigned after this, in which Keith considered his options. If he gave them the information, Keith would be hunted down by the Empire. With the information, they could either flub it or make use of it. If they were to take down the quintessence shipping in the Empire, it would strike a serious blow and leave the Empire reeling. Of course, Keith could refuse to give the information and die without having tried anything; without his revenge. 

“Fine, but I have one condition,” Keith began. The girl sitting in the chair snorted at the same time the leader asked, “And what makes you think you’re in a position to bargain?” Keith looked up at him, trying to channel as much sincerity into his gaze as possible. 

“I want to join your group.”

 

* * *

“What? No!” Lance cried, staring in horror at the monitor. On screen, Shiro stood before their Galran prisoner,  _ Keith _ , and seemed to  _ actually consider letting him join _ . “He’s the enemy! He’ll stab us in the back the moment he has the chance!” 

“Huh, I thought you would’ve been more for it,” Hunk mused beside Lance, turning from the feed to look at his friend. 

“What would make you think that?” Lance demanded, turning away from the hidden camera’s screen.

“Well, let’s see,” Hunk began, holding up a hand to begin counting, “you screwed up the mission because you think he’s hot, you told him he was pretty--yeah, we could hear you, buddy--and instead of killing him in the end, you brought him back with us.” 

“That doesn’t mean I want him on the team! It means he’s cute and I didn’t want to kill him. Look at him, Hunk, he looks the same age as us. I can’t kill someone like that!” Lance gesticulated to the screen. Hunk squinted his eyes at the Galra on the feed and hummed.

“Yeah, that  _ has _ been bothering me for a while. He doesn’t look anything like other Galra. And what kind of Galra name is  _ Keith. _ ” As if she could hear them, Pidge spoke up on the other end of the camera.

“Wait a second. Before you make any decisions, I have a couple questions,” after Shiro gestured for her to continue, Pidge began, “you don’t look like any of the other Galras we’ve seen. Not only are your facial and body structures different, but your name is about as abnormal as it could be,” Pidge paused, staring Keith in the eyes, “you’re only half Galra, aren’t you?”

Even through the grainy camera, Lance and Hunk could see the Galran prisoner tense. He seemed to mull over what he wanted to say, before finally answering, “yes.”

“The other half is human, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” it was said through gritted teeth, as if the admission pained him.

“Well, that explains that,” Hunk finally said into the silence that followed the words. Looking at Keith, it all made much more sense. He was so much smaller than other Galras, his face too angular and his shoulders too small. When they had been fighting, Lance had noticed (with no small amount of glee) that Keith was shorter than him.

“Are you going to accept my terms or not,” Keith snapped into the silence of the room, his voice carrying to the two waiting in the control center. 

“Why do you want to join us?” Shiro asked, taking control of the situation again. 

“The information I’m offering you is extremely valuable,” Keith began, “if used properly, it could stun the Empire. I want to join you to make sure it’s used to do just that.” 

“He’s lying,” Lance hissed, “half Galran or not, he’ll betray us.” 

“Wait,” Hunk swatted at him, eyes glued to the screen. 

“Why should we trust you?” Shiro’s voice was all seriousness, the gentleness and lightness the Paladins were used to hearing nonexistent. Keith hesitated, seeming to struggle with himself before his eyes hardened in determination.

“Because I’ve been trying to bring them down from the inside for years and I can prove it.” Only the minute widening of Shiro’s eyes testified to his surprise.

“Years?” Hunk wondered in amazement as Lance jabbed a button the console and said into a small microphone, “We need to talk.” Shiro didn’t look up at the hidden camera, only nodded slightly and lead Pidge to the door. After Hunk entered the door code, the wooden barrier popped open and the two Paladins stepped through. Keith watched them leave, the door clicking shut behind them. A minute later, Shiro and Pidge were inside the console room with Lance and Hunk. 

“I think we need to take his deal,” Pidge said at the same time Lance cried, “We can’t trust this guy!” The two stared each other down, before both turned to Shiro with equal looks of indignation. 

“What do you think, Hunk?” Shiro asked, turning all of the attention onto the Yellow Paladin. He squirmed under their gazes for a moment, before looking Lance in the eye and saying, “I think there might be some value in accepting the deal.”

“Hunk!”

“I’m sorry, Lance, but this is the only solid footing on the Empire we’ve gotten in a long time! I think if we refused him and just turned in the contract, we’d be losing a great chance,” Hunk held his hands up in surrender as Lance glared at him.

“Okay, so we accept his offer, then what? He takes us to ‘prove’ he’s on our side and leads us right into a trap!” Lance waved his arms at the camera feed. Couldn’t they see how dangerous this was? “Why don’t we just  _ say _ we’re accepting the deal and then leave him locked up in there while we take down the quintessence shipping?”

“That would work,” Pidge started, “but if he’s telling the truth, we’d be missing out on a goldmine of information. If we accept his help now, we might be able to get more information out of him later.” Shiro listened to them all attentively, watching the debate go back and forth between Hunk, Pidge, and Lance before finally interrupting. 

“Lance, I understand your concerns more than anyone. I don’t like trusting him either, but I think this the best choice we can make in the current situation. We’ll keep him under double watch until he proves himself and be ready for any trap he could lead us into. This is the best opportunity we’ve gotten in a long time, so I think we need to do this,” Shiro placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder, squeezing it when Lance looked away. Everyone waited to hear what Lance was going to say next, sighing in relief when he finally acquiesced, “Fine. But I want to be on the first watch.” Shiro offered him an approving smile before motioning for Pidge to follow him out the door. A moment later, they appeared back on the camera feed. 

“We’re willing to accept your terms. You’ll be under watch until you can show us the actions you’ve taken against the Empire, though.” Keith nodded in understanding before taking a deep breath and diving into the land of no return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright there's the second chapter! If you didn't know, the first chapter was edited a bit because I actually sat down to think out a plot. There's a summary of the edits at the end notes of Chapter 1.


End file.
